KASIA FARRAR
BREATHWORK AND BODYWORK PRACTITIONER IN NORTH LONDON
For more than twenty years I worked in senior marketing roles across global media: the BBC, Disney, Sky, Sony. Fast-moving worlds that rewarded performance, clarity and results.
From the outside, my life looked established.
Then, in midlife, burnout, personal loss and redundancy brought everything to a stop. The roles and structures I had relied on fell away, and with them any certainty about who I was.
There came a point when thinking my way forward was no longer enough.
Grief and exhaustion had done their work. I needed a way back into my body.
THE TURN
Breathwork was what brought me back. It gave me a way of listening inward when words and strategies had stopped helping, and it took me a while to trust that something so simple could be doing so much.
But twenty years of building strategy leaves a mark. I couldn't leave it at it works. I needed to understand why. So I went and trained in the physiology.
Partly, if I'm honest, because that is simply how my mind works. But mostly so I would know when to encourage someone forward, and, far more importantly, when to hold them back.
The mistake I see most often in this field is a powerful session given to a system in no state to receive it. Depletion doesn't need intensity. It needs rest, safety, and someone with the judgement to say not yet.
That judgement is what the training gave me.
WHERE THE SCIENCE STOPS
I train in the science because I want to know where it stops.
Carbon dioxide tolerance, heart rate variability, vagal tone. Why a chest gets tight and why sleep breaks under long stress. I keep studying this because it tells me when you're ready, how much is enough, and when to do less.
I certified in both breathwork and bodywork with InnerCamp: over 600 hours of professional training, recognised by the Complementary Medical Association. I am now completing further training with the School of Breath Science, founded by respiratory and sleep scientist Martin McPhilimey. My bodywork practice is gentle, consent-led, and paced by your body rather than by me.
But I won't pretend the science explains everything. Something happens when a person who hasn't wept in years begins to shake on a mat and cannot say why. I can describe the mechanism partway. I cannot describe that. The rigour is what earns me the right to leave the door open.
No mysticism dressed as fact. No certainty dressed as science. Just careful work, and room for what we can't yet explain.
WHY "HER"
Not because this work is only for women.
Her is Nature.
She has always been her: natura in Latin, la nature, die Natur, przyroda in my first language. We still say Mother Nature. Nobody decided that; it simply survived.
And notice the pair we inherited. Mother Nature, and Father Time. He is linear, measuring, relentless, always taking. She is cyclical, generative, endlessly renewing.
Almost everyone who comes to me is being ground down by Father Time. What they have lost is her.
She is the old, instinctive intelligence beneath thought, the one that knows how to breathe, to rest, to grieve, to heal, without being told how. Modern life trains all of us out of her. It rewards the head over the body, control over listening, doing over being.
And it trains men out of her hardest of all.
Her wilder nature is not a gender. It is the part of you that still knows.
My work is calm, grounded and relational, shaped by training, lived experience, and a deep respect for the body's intelligence.
COME HOME TO YOUR WILDER NATURE.
